Guidance
by PiperPaigePhoebe01
Summary: After a guidance session with Quinn Fabray, Emma realizes certain facts about her relationship with Will. But will she act on her renewed sense of clarity? It's a cliché, but only time will tell... Will/Emma.


**Disclaimer: **I own nothing. Unfortunately.

**Author's Note: **Will/Emma is one of my favorite couples. I love them so much. I can't get enough of their fanfiction, and after what happened in the finale, I knew that I needed to do my own twist on the reconciliation of these two amazing characters. I also wanted to give Quinn a little bit of closure, which I hope I achieved in this fic.

**Summary: **After a guidance session with Quinn Fabray, Emma realizes certain facts about her relationship with Will. But will she act on her renewed sense of clarity? It's a cliché, but only time will tell... Will/Emma.

**Guidance  
**_by PiperPaigePhoebe01_

"Miss Pillsbury?"

Emma looked up from her paperwork. Quinn Fabray, looking hesitant and rather frail, was standing in the threshold of her office, shifting from foot to foot. Her hands were crossed over her flat stomach—_almost protectively_, Emma thought.

"Hello, Quinn," Emma said. "Please come in."

Quinn nodded and stepped inside the office, shutting the door behind her. Emma waited until Quinn sat down before continuing.

"So what's the matter?" Emma asked.

"It's Beth," Quinn said, no preamble necessary. Emma knew all about Beth and Puck and the adoption—it was hard not to hear all the gossip circulating the halls this time of year—and Quinn apparently knew that. "Did you know that Shelby Corcoran adopted her?"

Now that? Emma hadn't heard.

Shelby. That name sounded familiar; of course it did. Will made out with a woman named Shelby. It was only until later that Emma realized that Shelby was the director of Vocal Adrenaline and Rachel's mother. And now, apparently she was also the adoptive mother of Quinn's baby as well.

"I see," Emma said. "What about the adoption?"

"I... don't know if I did the right thing," Quinn whispered. She was so different from the confident Quinn Fabray of the beginning of the year that Emma didn't know what to say at first, not until she continued. "I know that I had to give her up—I can't take care of a baby—but I don't know if I should have given her to Shelby. She wanted a baby, but..."

"You wanted her too?" Emma offered.

"Yes," Quinn said. "I wanted her too. So did Puck."

"But you both knew you couldn't take care of her," Emma said.

"Right," Quinn said. "Beth deserves everything this world has to offer. She deserves a nice home with food and shelter and a mother who loves her, not a sixteen-year-old girl who doesn't know what she's doing with her life and a father who just stopped shoving kids into dumpsters recently."

"I'm not sure what to say here," Emma said. With teens, honesty was always the right way to go: she didn't want to baby them or make them feel inferior. She always spoke the truth and this was not an exception. "I've never been in a situation like this before, but I've heard that there are camps over the summer that deal with this. You know, camps that help the biological mother come to terms with the adoption."

Quinn let out a sniffle. Emma passed her a tissue without a word. Quinn's face momentarily disappeared behind the sheet before Quinn responded.

"You mean, like that camp the girl from _16 and Pregnant_ went to?"

"Sure," Emma said.

_Mental note: Watch 16 and Pregnant to better understand the plight of the pregnant teenager._

Quinn nodded and wiped at the bottom of her eyes with the tissue. "I'll look into it," Quinn said. "It might help." She hesitated. "At least it's an open adoption."

"That's always good," Emma responded. "A growing number of adoptions in the United States are open. It helps people deal with the placement." She tried to smile. "As I understand it, Shelby is close to Lima, isn't she? Within a few hours?"

"Two hours," Quinn confirmed. "So I can see her every couple of months, no problem, and Shelby doesn't mind sending pictures or videos." She paused, took a deep breath, and wiped tears from her eyes again. "I just wish none of this had ever happened. That Puck and I hadn't had sex and I hadn't gotten pregnant. Or if that had to happen, I wish... I wish that Mr. Schue could have taken the baby."

The mention of Will—it tightened her throat and made it difficult to breathe.

They hadn't spoken since the Monday she had yelled at Figgins, primarily because Emma found a way to avoid him whenever he started to walk toward her. She couldn't see him without remembering his words. _The_ words, in fact: _I love you, Emma._

Even now, they rang through her head. Emma tried to push them out of her mind, force them away, but to no avail. Failing the removal of the words from her mind, she returned to her conversation with Quinn. Baby... adoption... Will...

"Why?" Emma couldn't help asking.

"Because he's a father," Quinn said, no hesitance in her voice. "This whole year has shown me that he cares for all of us like we're his children. He wants the best for us and I'm sure that he wouldn't change toward a kid of his own." She smiled. "Kurt calls him the daddy of Glee."

"He cares for you a lot," Emma said. "He would do anything for you kids."

"Exactly," Quinn said. "He has the biggest heart I've ever seen, even though he's still called a manwhore." Emma coughed; she still felt a little niggling of guilt in her heart for calling him a slut in front of the whole faculty, but that didn't mean her statement wasn't true. "He might have done some stupid stuff, but he's not _really _meant it. He wants us to have everything we deserve." She laughed. "He's helped me so much this year, even though he really didn't have to."

Emma nodded. "He's a good teacher."

"No, he's a good person," Quinn said. "That's why I was willing to give my baby to him. Because even though his ex-wife is a crazy, Mr. Schue would have taken care of my baby."

"He would have," Emma replied.

"But I wouldn't subject him to that lie," Quinn responded. "Not knowing who he is now."

"So where does that leave you?"

Quinn smiled. "I'm going to look into what you suggested, Miss P," she said. "My mom wouldn't mind paying for me to go to one of those camps, I think. Thank you."

"You're welcome."

Quinn stood up but didn't head to the door. "Miss P?"

"Yes, Quinn?" Emma asked.

"I know that you and Mr. Schue have something going on. I'm not sure what it is, but ever since Monday, Mr. Schue's been walking around in a daze," she said. "He hasn't been himself. Everyone's noticing. We all know it's because of you."

"B-because of me?" Emma asked. This was a turn in the conversation that she was not ready to have, especially not with a student. "Why?"

"We aren't blind, Miss P," Quinn said, a small smile quirking her lips upward. "Your sexual tension could set the school on fire. And your angst rivals mine and Puck's."

Emma felt a blush rise up on her cheeks. "I'm not sure what you're talking about."

"Sure," Quinn replied. "Just know this. Mr. Schue cares for you. I see the way he looks at you and I see the way you look at him. Something like that—a love like you two seem to share... you can't just let it go. You need to hold onto it. Believe me, I know."

Emma nodded. "Thank you, Quinn."

"No, thank you, Miss P," Quinn said. "I'll see you around." She turned to leave, pausing at the door. Over her shoulder, she spoke: "If Puck and I could work through our shitload of issues, you and Mr. Schue can do the same thing."

With that, she was gone, but her words remained.

Emma put her elbows on her desk, a hand hovering over her mouth. She pressed it to her lips and closed her eyes. If she had known that a mere girl—a sixteen-year-old with so much more life experience ahead of her—could show her what she had been refusing to acknowledge, then she might have been hesitant to allow her into her office.

But Quinn Fabray, mother of one, ex-Cheerio captain, was right.

About Will, at least.

Will had the biggest heart that she had ever seen. He cared about the Glee kids—no, he more than cared about them. He loved them. He was willing to take the fall for them during the whole mattress debacle, even though everything in his life seemed to be falling apart with Terri. He consistently compromised himself during his marriage with Terri and never seemed bitter about it. No matter what, he was there for the kids. God knew, she couldn't count the amount of times she saw Will in her office, ready to unload whatever burden was on his shoulders after a Glee rehearsal.

The most recent of which was the Thursday practice three weeks before Regionals when Emma told Will she was seeing someone. Her dentist, Carl Howell.

When she told Will that she had been seeing Carl every night since the first time he asked her out, it technically wasn't a lie, but she made it out to be worse than it was. It had only been five days since he first asked her out. It hadn't been very long at all, considering all the facts, and they had just barely started to get to know each other, but she liked the relationship with Carl. It was simple, easy, unencumbered by any burdens.

But he wasn't Will.

Emma bit her lip. _He might not be Will, but he didn't hurt me like Will did._

She couldn't get him out of her head, but it wasn't right to think of him when she was seeing someone. She needed to try to get over him. Letting Quinn influence her decision to do so was not wise. She needed to figure out what she was going to do on her own.

And she would.

Glancing at the clock, she started to gather her things together. She needed an early day off from school, even though it meant that she would have to do some serious cramming over the weekend in order to do everything that she needed to do before the end of the school year.

_I'll live_, Emma thought as she put her last stack of paperwork neatly into her bag and stood up to go.

* * *

That night, she went out with Carl. By now, they had been going out for about a month, although not every day like they had at the beginning of their relationship.

"Ems, you seem distracted," Carl said as he led her toward the large building looming in front of them. His arm around her felt heavy, almost smothering, but Emma didn't say anything. "What's up?"

"Nothing," Emma said, forcing a smile to her lips. "I'm just wondering where you're taking me."

Carl smiled, teeth perfectly white and straight. "You'll see."

Emma did see. A few moments later, Emma found herself standing in a dance hall, dimly lit, with couples revolving slowly around the dance floor. Carl turned to her, his smile brighter than before, and asked: "Do you like it?" His eyes shone with excitement.

She swallowed back the memory and nodded. "I love it."

* * *

The dance reminded her of Will.

She tried to enjoy it, tried to love the way Carl effortlessly twirled her around the dance floor, but she couldn't help remembering the scene from what seemed to be years ago: a wedding dress, an instrumental version of a beautiful song, her own voice melding into it, strong arms carrying her along the store floor, her rapidly beating heart. And those same strong arms wrapped around her on another day, holding her close, swaying along to the music in a darkened living room, Will's voice smooth like butter in her ear.

It was almost—lacking, this connection she had with Carl. It felt nice to dance with him, but there was no intimacy, it seemed. No _spark._

_That'll come soon_, Emma convinced herself.

* * *

The only problem: It didn't.

Carl was nice. He didn't push her to go to a level of physicality that she wasn't comfortable with. The extent of their physical contact extended only to hugs and a quick peck on the lips, no matter what Will seemed to think about their contact. Their conversations were all right; they never lacked anything to talk about, although they never seemed to talk about anything of substance.

To put it simply: everything was perfect. Except it wasn't.

That Friday, Emma and Carl were at her condo, watching a movie. Not _Armageddon _or _Bad Boys_, but a rather cheesy romantic comedy that Emma knew Carl would never enjoy, but he dealt with it for Emma. She found it rather cheesy herself, but she didn't mind it. It was rather sweet at the same time, but she wasn't paying too much attention. Her thoughts were at McKinley High School, in her office, where she had found a single rose lying on her desk that morning, a note tied to the stem.

_One red rose—for the first time I told you I loved you... but not the last. Will._

Against her better judgment, Emma had grabbed a vase and put the rose in it. The vase now held a place of glory on her desk, immediately noticeable to anyone walking by.

"All right, Emma," Carl said during a dull part of the movie. "What's going on with you?"

Emma turned to look at him. "What? Nothing."

"Really?" Carl looked skeptical. "It seems like you haven't been... present for a while. You're here, but not really here, if that makes sense."

"Sorry," Emma said. "I've just been distracted by paperwork. School is ending in a few weeks and there's a lot that I still have to do."

Carl nodded and accepted this as an excuse.

But Emma didn't.

It wasn't working. She knew it. Trying to use Carl to get over Will was not working, just like using Ken to get over Will turned out to be a huge failure. And Emma would not use another person like she had used Ken. She refused to, but if she stayed with Carl, that was exactly what she was going to end up doing.

That left her with only one option.

* * *

The last week of school finally arrived. Every once in a while, Emma saw a student stressing about finals in her office, but Emma was left alone, by and large, to finish the necessary paperwork for the end of the school year. It was almost relaxing; it got her mind off her breakup and, consequently, got her mind off Will.

He still didn't know that she had broken up with Carl.

And honestly, it was a conversation she did not feel like having.

Finals and paperwork and sunshine dominated the last week of school but before she knew it, school was over. On the last day of school, another rose appeared on her desk. This time, there was only one sentence on the note.

_I will never stop fighting for you._

Emma paused, fingers sliding across the crimson petals, before she put the flower in the vase, right beside the first one he gave her. She slowly proceeded to pack up some of her belongings for summer break, eyes straying to the rose every couple of minutes.

The day passed quickly. Before she knew it, it was twelve o'clock, and the students were leaving.

"See you next year, Miss P," Quinn said, poking her head inside the door. "Mr. Schue is in the choir room if you want him." She grinned. "By the way, I'm going to one of those adoption camps over the summer. Thank you so much."

Emma smiled. "You're welcome," she said and Quinn disappeared in the crowd.

Will was in the choir room.

She suspected he might be. That choir room was almost his home this past year. It just made sense that he would be there at the end of the school year, reminiscing on all that had happened, which was why she had made a plan to go out the back door of the school rather than the front one. That way, she could avoid Will until next year.

But Quinn's words did not stop ringing through her head.

_A love like you two seem to share... you can't just let it go. You need to hold onto it._

Then there was Will: _I love you, Emma. There, I finally said it. And you love me, and dentist or no, this thing isn't over between us._

And her own words.

_Some things are worth fighting for._

Emma put two fingers to her lips in remembrance of the firm kiss he had given her. His lips pressed firmly to hers, his body close to hers, and her own reaction: immediately kissing him back. The muffled footsteps behind them that caused them to step back and the sound that escaped her lips.

In that moment, she knew that Will was right. It wasn't over.

Emma glanced at the flowers on her desk. If it wasn't over, that meant she couldn't keep telling herself that it was. And in the moment that followed, she knew that she would have to act upon it.

It would be hard. It would be painful. The therapy sessions would not be any easier. Being with Will would not be any easier—but it would be much easier than the past few weeks had been. Those couple of dates they had before it all fell apart were perhaps some of the happiest moments of her life.

She couldn't let it go without giving it a fair shot. He deserved a fair shot, now that there were no burdens on his heart (other than the ones she herself had given him) and summer was fast approaching. It was the perfect time for them to get to know each other outside work, outside their other relationships.

Just Will and Emma. Emma and Will.

It might work.

She'd never forgive herself if she didn't try just one more time.

Decision made, she looked at the clock: 12:15. There was no way Will had left yet; she could catch him before he did. She cast one last glance at the flowers on her desk, tried to calm down her rapidly beating heart, and bolted out of her office.

She headed down the corridor she had determined not to go down just a few hours ago as she walked into school that sunny morning. The halls were not quite empty, with a few stragglers trying to clean out their lockers and a couple of honor graduates saying tearful goodbyes to some of their favorite teachers. She walked past all of them, heels clipping against the floor, seemingly with great determination—but really, it was trepidation.

She had to do this. It was time to stop fighting what she was feeling and start fighting _for _it.

Faster than she would have liked, she found herself standing outside the slightly ajar door of the choir room, looking in at Will, sitting on a stool. A guitar was on his lap, his fingers strumming it quietly. The tune that filled the room was somehow familiar but then again not, all at the same time. Will appeared deep in thought, but then he began singing.

_This romeo is bleedin'  
__but you can't see his blood.  
__It's nothing but some feelings  
__that this old dog kicked up._

It was _that _song.

_Always _by Bon Jovi. It had been one of her absolute favorite songs as a college freshman. She remembered singing it in her dorm room late at night, blasting the music as loud as she could. She had never heard it like this, though—acoustic, with nothing but the sound of the guitar and Will's voice.

_It's been rainin' since you left me.  
__Now I'm drownin' in the flood.  
__You see I've always been a fighter  
__but without you, I've given up._

Will's face was turned away from hers, facing the window, but she could just hear the pain in his voice. Her chest tightened.

_I can't sing a love song  
__like the way it's meant to be.  
__I guess I'm not that good anymore,  
__but that's just me._

The chorus was coming. Emma took a step forward, trying not to put too much pressure on her heel. She didn't want to make a noise and alert Will to her presence. She wanted to hear this song, Will's voice resonating through the choir room.

_I will love you, baby—  
__always.  
__And I'll be there forever and a day—  
__always._

He swept into the second verse, his fingers strumming at the guitar. He got lost in the song and with him, so did Emma. She missed hearing his voice. She might have heard it from a distance, calling her name as she slipped into her office and shut the door, or through a classroom door as he coached his students on the correct way to conjugate Spanish verbs, but she hadn't heard him sing in a long time.

She forgot how much she missed it. She leaned in close to the doorway as he continued to sing one of her favorite songs. He almost seemed to choke up right before the chorus—_I've made mistakes, I'm just a man—_and then he careened into the last part of the verse. Honest, painful, and raw, Emma couldn't help the tears from appearing in her eyes as he sang.

_When he holds you close and he pulls you near,  
__when he says the words you've been needin' to hear,  
__I wish I was him with these words of mine  
__to say to you till the end of time._

_And I will love you, baby—  
__always.  
__And I'll be there forever and a day—  
__always._

Emma closed her eyes, let the words just wash over her. Did he really mean the words he was singing? He must. How could she have put him through so much? He deserved to be reamed out for what he did, but he had a good heart. He was under a lot of stress, she could have at least talked to him before just deciding to head straight into another relationship, knowing that her feelings for Will would never go away.

She finally believed him. She finally knew that he loved her.

It was in every note of this song.

_Well, there ain't no luck  
__in these loaded dice,  
__but, baby, if you give me just one more try,  
__we can pack up our old dreams  
__and our lives.  
__We'll find a place where the sun still shines._

Softly, softly, Will strummed on the guitar during the chorus. The guitar was barely present at all as he continued.

_And I will love you, baby—  
__always.  
__And I'll be there forever and a day—  
__always.  
__I'll be there till the stars don't shine,  
__till the heavens burst and  
__the words don't rhyme.  
__And I know when I die, you'll be on my mind,  
__and I'll love you—  
__always._

A few more strums on the guitar, and then silence.

Emma took a deep breath and let herself into the choir room, the soft click of her heels combining with the creak of the door swinging on its hinges alerting Will to her presence. He turned around to face her. Other than a widening of his eyes, he didn't say a word.

She took a few more steps into the room, stopping a couple of feet away from Will.

"Hi," she breathed.

"Hey," Will said.

"It's been a while," Emma managed to say.

"Yes, it has," Will said. Emma knew that he was thinking of the last time they talked—in the hallway, right before he kissed her. "A very long while."

"Congratulations on another year for Glee," Emma said. "I told you that we needed to keep fighting."

"You were right."

Emma nodded. _This is it—now or never. Perfect segue._

"So were you."

Will blinked. "Excuse me?"

"I said that you were right," Emma responded. "It only took me a month and a conversation with Quinn Fabray for me to realize that... all along, you were right." She tried to smile. One appeared on her lips, but it was hesitant, frail, and didn't last too long. "Things aren't over between us."

"I'm sorry, but I don't understand," Will said. "I thought you were with Carl."

"I was," Emma said. "We broke up a week ago."

Will hardly looked like he dared to hope. "Why?"

"Because I realized something. Something simple," Emma said. She took a few more steps toward Will, stopping right in front of him. She put her hands on Will's shoulders and looked him in the eyes. "William Schuester, you are one of the kindest, most sensitive men I have ever met. You care for the Glee kids like they were your own. Quinn Fabray and Kurt Hummel call you the daddy of Glee." She smiled. "And you love me."

Will didn't say anything. Emma waited a few seconds, then continued.

"And I love you." She forged ahead before Will could say anything. "Something like we share... can't be denied. If it's strong enough, it's worth fighting for."

"Emma," Will breathed. "Are you sure?"

"Yes," Emma said. No hesitation. "You get one more try."

"Things will be different this time," Will promised. "No more monkeys on our backs. It will be just you and me." He took Emma's hands from his shoulders and held them in his. "We'll get to know each other for who we really are, like we should have done a long time ago."

"Good," Emma said.

And before Will could say anything else, she swooped in and kissed him full on the mouth. He responded immediately, pulling her closer. Emma didn't mind the close contact; if anything, she wanted to get closer. She always wanted to get closer to Will, but they had to break apart someday.

When they did, Emma smiled.

"That was payback. For the last sneak attack," she whispered.

Will laughed. "I love you," he said.

"I love you too," Emma replied. "Always."

As she leaned in for another kiss, she made a mental note.

_Remember: buy thank you card for Quinn Fabray._

* * *

**Author's Note: **I hope you enjoyed this story. Please review?


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